


The thing you love, the ghost

by dementxa



Category: Free!
Genre: Also Ikuya is genderfluid, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Friendship, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance, but thought it should say it, not really important to the story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-14 00:01:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7991209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dementxa/pseuds/dementxa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A suspiciously low rent can only mean bad things - rodents in the walls, bugs in the cupboards ... Or, in Makoto's case - a ghost in his bathroom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello~ I was supposed to be working on my Snowsuke story, but then I didn't sleep for about 40 hours and this happened, lmao! Anyway, I wrote this at 2.a.m., so it may be a bit weird. Still, I hope you like it! ^_^
> 
> I'd really like it if you let me know what you think of it, or if you have some advice for me. :) I'm kinda making this up as I go along, so at some point I'll probably need some help, lol.

Makoto woke up with a start. For a moment he remained still, straining to hear anything. He wasn't one to just wake up randomly during the night, so something must have startled him. Was there perhaps someone else in the apartment? Makoto was sure that he had checked the front door and all the windows before going to bed. Then again, if someone were intent on entering, a locked door would hardly deter them ...

His heart beating just a tiny bit faster than usual, he slid out of bed. He tried to be as silent as someone of his size could be. After carefully unplugging his night lamp, he grasped it tightly. It wasn't too heavy, but it would have to do, if there was really someone unwanted here.

As he waited, the sound of broken glass tore through the silence, making him jump up. It hadn't come from his apartment, but from the one next to him, and a second later booming laughter followed it. Then there was more glass breaking.

Makoto sighed relieved. He returned the lamp on the nightstand and laid down in bed again. He was a bit ashamed of himself to having jumped to such extreme conclusions, thinking that someone had broken into his home and what-not. He supposed that he was so jumpy because he'd only been living alone for a little more than a month. Perhaps, with time, he'd get used to it and he wouln't be so anxious anymore.

_Maybe I'd be calmer if I had a better place..._

His apartment was nice enough, with a tiny bedroom and a living room with a built-in kitchen. It was a place suitable for a student, sparsely furnished, but in relatively good condition. The building complex was surrounded by a small yard, and some of the older residents tended the plants regularly. Overall, it was a nice place to live, and if it weren't for its awkward location, Makoto would feel quite happy with his residence.

And yet the rent was shockingly low for a place like this. When Makoto had asked about that, he'd been given a very vague and non-committal answer. He'd paid it no heed, initially, but as of late he'd started to think about that more and more.

It seemed there was a party next door. Makoto wasn't quite sure who actually lived there. There were about five or six who went in and out of that place on a daily basis, so it was hard to pin down who his actual neighbor was. The people weren't loud all the time, but sometimes they'd start yelling and throwing bottles around - exactly what was happening at the moment. These people were probably the reason the rent was so low, Makoto mused.

Makoto thought he wouldn't be able to sleep with all the noise seeping into his bedroom, but he did manage to fall asleep fairly quickly. In fact, he slept so deeply that he almost didn't hear his alarm go off. He rose from bed slowly, battling the urge to just stay in bed for the rest of the day, and went in the bathroom. Upon entering, he clicked his tongue in disapproval. The bathroom, a room that looked overstuffed due to the large, rather old-fashioned bathtub that took one side of it, had no windows. Perhaps because of that, and the fact that it pointed north, it was a very humid room, and there was constantly water on the tiled floor. Makoto had tried to get his landlady to do something about it, but all his requests had been firmly denied.

Well, it was only a minor inconvenience after all.

Makoto went through his morning routine fairly quickly. As he was shaving, he saw something move in the mirror and turned around swiftly. There was nothing behind him, but Makoto was almost sure he'd seen something move. His gaze moved along the wall slowly, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Everything seemed just fine. The light from the lamp had just reflected off the tiles, Makoto thought. He was probably still a bit on edge from the previous night. Shaking his head at himself, he turned back to face the mirror.

"Oh, crap ..."

He'd somehow managed to cut himself while shaving. The wound stung a bit, but what was more annoying, Makoto knew, was that it would take some time for the bleeding to stop. He sighed and tore some toilet paper off, pressing it on the cut. Better be careful - he didn't want to get blood on his clothes.

It took him a while to get ready to leave, but finally he was dressed and not bleeding anymore. He stuffed his books in a courier bag and hurried to the door, remembering to take the lunch he'd prepared for himself from his fridge. There were a lot of shops and cafes near his university, but they all sold the same pastries and sandwiches, and Makoto had grown tired of them. A homemade lunch was more nutritious, and tastier too. And cheaper, if one knew how to make it properly.

Some time passed after Makoto had left the apartment. The bathroom door opened silently and a dark-haired head poked out. It retreated back inside almost immediately. Soon after, the sound of splashing water could be heard.

* * *

"Nasty cut you've got there, Makoto."

"Eh?! You can see that?"

Makoto's fingers went up to his chin at Sousuke's remark. The pain had faded long ago; in fact, up until his friend mentioned it, Makoto had actually forgotten about the incident. He flushed and turned away.

"It's fine ... Happens to everyone, I guess," Sousuke said, leaning back.

The two had decided to eat their lunches outside. They were sitting on the steps in front of one of the buildings on campus, enjoying the autumn sun. It could hardly be said that they were eating in peace - the grounds were bustling with people. It seemed like a lot of students were taking advantage of the pleasant weather while they could.

With so many people around, Makoto wasn't certain that Kisumi and the others would be able to find them. He'd been very lucky, he mused, to have three of his old friends attend the same university as himself. It made him feel less lonely, knowing that there was someone he could rely on. Even though he hadn't seem Kisumi, Asahi and Ikuya that often after middle school, after coming to Tokyo, the four had started hanging out regularly and had become even closer than before.

Of course, Makoto had made some new friends too - like Sousuke. They were in the same course, but Sousuke's plans for the future were far more ambitious than Makoto's. After getting to know each other, the two had realized that they shared a lot in common - like swimming and their home towns being relatively close to each other.  
Sousuke was living in the university dorms and he shared a room with Kisumi. By some odd coincidence, they had actually known each other since they were children, having gone to the same elementary school. Kisumi was exalted over living together with Sousuke, and he was very keen on the idea that all five of them should become the best of friends. So far his plan seemed to be working, because Sousuke often hung out with them.

"Ah, there you are!" With that exclamation, Kisumi unceremoniously sat down between Makoto and Sousuke, giving both of them a wide grin. "Phew, so many students here!"

Makoto agreed readily, and then asked Kisumi about his day. This was just the prompt his friend needed. He launched into a vast monologue about everything that had happened to him that morning, making sure to spare Makoto no details. Makoto listened, slightly amused. Kisumi was still the same as ever, he thought. True, he hardly looked like a middle-schooler anymore, but that trademark carefree smile was still on his lips. His chattiness also seemed to have persevered. But then again, Makoto thought, perhaps it was for the best. Kisumi wanted to become a sports reporter, and to Makoto that seemed like a career where a silver tongue would be a requirement.

"So Makoto," Kisumi turned to him, cutting his speech abruptly in the middle, "you're coming this evening, aren't you?"

"This evening..?"

"Yeah. Didn't Sousuke tell you?" Kisumi smiled. "I found this cool little bar with nice drinks and food, and pretty reasonably priced too. We're gonna go check it out this evening."

"Oohh ... well ... sure, I'll come." Makoto nodded. "But I don't think I'll drink. I have classes and work tomorrow." He'd discovered that alcohol, even in small quantities, made his stomach quite upset. "But of course that I'll come. It would be nice to hang out in a bar, I suppose."

"That a boy!" Kisumi slapped him playfully on the back and then helped himself to some of Makoto's lunch. "Ikuya and Asahi already said they're coming."

"It will be just like old times, huh?"

"Yeah - but with beer!" Kisumi turned to Sousuke with a grin. "Hey, Sousuke, you remember when you brought that weird drink from your dad's shop? We thought it was alcohol and drank it and then we thought we were drunk and acted so weird." He laughed.

"I don't remember anything like that ever happening." Sousuke said sharply. "And stop stealing my food, dammit! Eat your own lunch ..."

* * *

"What do you think? Pretty nice place, huh?" Kisumi downed half of his beer and then licked the foam off his lips. "I knew you'd love it!" He added, not bothering to wait for an actual response.

Makoto was inclined to agree with him. Even though it was obvious that the bar's clientele was mainly office workers, nobody really minded them coming in and ordering. The bar was a cozy, quiet place where one could have a drink with friends without having to outshout a TV or some loud music.

He looked at the others. Asahi was turning around wildly, studying the bar with interest. Ikuya and Sousuke were both looking down at their drinks, but they didn't look unhappy with the place.

"Hey, Kisumi, when you said you were taking us to a bar, I thought you'd pick a place with chicks." Asahi complained. "There's just old geezers here..."

"Why, Asahi, you should have told me it was a woman that you were seeking!" Kisumi teased him. "I would have found you one immediately. You should see how many there are in my course!" He laughed. "You can come to one of my lectures and I'll introduce you to some of them. But am I to understand then," he leaned back in his seat and gave Asahi a smirk, "that you're leaving Ikyua all to myself?"

_Oh boy! They're at it again ..._

It had started in middle school. Back then, Kisumi and Asahi would constantly fight for Ikuya's attention, despite Ikuya's mild annoyance towards both of them. Makoto looked at Ikuya. He hadn't seen him at all after middle school, so when they met again after moving to Tokyo, he'd been quite shocked to see how much Ikuya had changed. While there was no denying that he'd always been slightly feminine, it seemed like Ikuya was now making an effort to appear like that. He'd let his hair grow longer, and now it fell past his shoulders, his eyebrows seemed a bit thinner and had a more elegant curve to them, and the clothes he wore emphasized his delicate build.

He'd explained it to Makoto, but sadly, Makoto had been unable to understand all the information he'd been given. What he took out of all his friend told him was that Ikuya didn't want to be a girl, he just liked how he looked. The whole thing was way too complicated for Makoto, but he'd ultimately decided that if it made Ikuya happy, then it couldn't really be a bad thing.

The others had accepted Ikuya's new identity as well, with Kisumi boldly announcing that he'd had a hunch even before Ikuya himself. Makoto doubted that, but he was too nice to say so.

But now that he thought about it ... Makoto wasn't sure that everyone was okay with Ikuya. He looked at Sousuke. Sousuke was even more reserved with Ikuya than usual, and the two rarely even acknowledged the other's presence. Makoto hadn't forgotten the odd look Sousuke had upon meeting Ikuya for the first time. There had been a definite disapproval in Sousuke's eyes as he took Ikuya in. He hadn't really said anything about it, and yet Makoto was anxious - he had a feeling that something bad was going to happen. He didn't want that. He wanted all his friends to get along. 

He was pulled out of his thoughts by Asahi's lound voice.

"If you must know, Kisumi, I am a gentleman!" He was saying, sitting upright. "I don't think it's polite to constantly bother Ikuya-san - like you do!"

"You know full well, Asahi, that if I were annoying Ikuya, he'd tell me."

Both boys turned to the object of their row, but Ikuya hardly acknowledged that. He took a bite out of the appetizer that he'd ordered and then finished his drink. Seemingly unaware of the tension he was making, he took a napkin and wiped his lips with it. Only after he was done with that, he spoke up.

"I don't care what you do," he said.

Makoto felt rather than saw Sousuke frowning at Ikuya's words. In an effort to ease the tension, he suggested buying another round of drinks. His offer was met with approval and the mood lifted quite a bit. And yet, as he was returning with the drinks, Makoto couldn't help but notice the way Sousuke was glaring at Ikuya.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto starts realizing that something isn't right in his apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took longer than I thought. I wrote it at work while trying to avoid my boss, lol! Anyway, it seems like this story will be longer than expected - not sure if that's good or bad - because I may add some subplots in later chapters that I've sort of teased here.
> 
> Comments make me happy, so please leave me some! ;)

Time in the electronics store was slow to begin with, but on this particular day it seemed to be trudging with the speed of a tectonic plate. And nothing new ever happened! People came in, they wanted the same things, they asked the same questions, and then they left. Some of the employees joked that the store was like a beehive – yellow and always buzzing.

There were a few highlights to brighten the shifts, thankfully. It was always amusing when an unhappy shopper picked the store’s newest employee to complain to. Makoto was exceedingly polite and kind to people, and so the scenes that some customers were ready to make always left him confused and stuttering.

A few idling employees had gathered, observing the spectacle with interest. It was truly a comical sight – the tall, broad-shouldered young man curled up in a dutiful pose in front of the shopper, a short middle-aged woman wearing a knitted cardigan. They couldn’t hear what the woman was saying, but it was obvious just by the way she kept nodding her hair that she believed she had been wronged in some way.

They weren’t bad people, really. But working shift after shift, day after day, they needed some excitement in their lives. Makoto’s misfortunes with the customers  were always a breath of fresh air. Besides, laughing at him didn’t seem so bad. One of the more experienced employees always stepped in at some point, and the rest of the staff always made sure to make it up to him afterwards.

“That looked humiliating as hell,” Hayato, one of the spectators, said. Makoto had sought solace in the store’s warehouse. He didn’t seem so shaken up, but it was obvious that the experience had been quite unpleasant to him. “What did that granny want?”

“It seemed like she bought a video game as a present a while ago, but she didn’t realize she got the version for the wrong console.”

Hayato rolled his eyes. The story coincided perfectly with his perception of people above a certain age. Every employee at the store had had to deal with an old person who was out of touch with the modern world at some point. Hayato, being one of the elder employees, knew better than most how tedious handling such a customer could be. He felt sympathy towards his co-worker.

“That should have been an easy thing to fix though, right?” He said. “You either give the woman her money back, or you just exchange the game for the right one. Why did you take so long with her then?”

“I …” Makoto blushed lightly. “She was very outraged, and she thought that we had deceived her by arranging our products poorly. She was very insistent on telling us how unhappy she was with us …”

He was so upset it was obvious that he had taken the complaint personally. Hayato chuckled lightly. Makoto’s simple nature was truly something else. Smiling, he patted his co-worker on the shoulder.

“Don’t dwell on it,” he said. “After working here for a while, you’ll get used to ignoring these kinds of comments. And don’t worry about it – getting a nasty client doesn’t mean you’re doing a bad job.”

Makoto hoped that was the case. He didn’t think he was bad at his job. He’d never made a serious mistake, he was always nice to the customers, and so far nobody had complained about him personally. And yet, he felt that some of his coworkers thought he was far too soft with the clients. Perhaps he was, but that was just the way he was raised. It seemed like that wasn’t such a good trait for a store clerk. This bothered him a little bit.

The rest of his shift went by normally, with no further complications. Still, the encounter with the unhappy middle-aged lady had drained him, and it took all of Makoto’s strength not to fall asleep on the train ride to his home. He felt an unbelievable relief when he stepped into his apartment. The tension finally melted off his shoulders and he sighed in relief. He shut the door behind him, and then bent down to take his shoes off. As he did so, his bag slid down his arm and fell with a loud of thud on the floor. A second later an odd noise followed. It sounded like water splashing. To Makoto, it seemed as if it was coming from his bathroom.

He was petrified for a couple of seconds. Was there someone in the apartment? He could feel the blood drain from his face. His fears from a couple of days ago came back with full force. Makoto slowly made his way to the bathroom. He put a hand on the handle, took a deep breath, and then opened the door.

There was no one inside, but he had no time to feel relieved. The bathtub was full with water, he noticed. It had not been full with water this morning when he had left for work. Makoto rarely took baths, as they took too much time.

There was something else too – two wet footprints, clearly visible on the dark tiles on the floor.

His heart leapt in his throat. With his feet shaking, he hurried out of the room. He stopped only to take his phone out of his bag before darting out of his apartment. When he was outside in the garden, he made a call.

* * *

“There’s no one here,” Sousuke said.

He’d arrived half an hour ago. After having listened to Makoto’s hasty explanation, he’d checked every nook and cranny in the apartment. He didn’t find a place big enough for anyone to hide, nor did he find anyone hiding in the apartment. While he was talking, he was going around knocking on the walls, trying to find a hollow in them. He was doing it not because he believed he’d find anything, but because he knew that it would ease Makoto’s mind.

“Makoto, I think you’re mistaken. You’re tired and you must have exaggerated whatever you think you may have heard.”

“What about the bathtub?” Makoto insisted. “Or the footprints. You didn’t see them, Sousuke, but they _were_ there, I swear!” With him being on edge, and Sousuke’s disbelief made him want to cry.

"I'm not saying it's not weird." Sousuke frowned. "But there really is in nobody here. And if you're certain that no one came out of the place while you were waiting for me-"

"That's true, no one did," Makoto interrupted him. "I was watching the door."

"-then we have to conclude that there was indeed _nobody_ in the apartment. It's physically and logically impossible." Sousuke finished. "Now come on ... I brought you some snacks. You need to eat something."

Makoto said nothing. He let Sousuke guide him to the living room. He sat down and watched his friend take things out of a plastic bag he’d brought. A light smile graced his lips when he saw Sousuke picking up a six pack of cola. Of course that this was what he'd bring! It was one of the few truly unhealthy things that Sousuke allowed himself.

As much as he hated to admit it, Sousuke was right. There was really no way that an intruder could have just disappeared without Makoto noticing them. However, there was one possibility left. A possibility that was disturbing and scary, but it was the only explanation he could come up with.

"Hey, Sousuke ... what if the apartment's haunted?"

Sousuke looked at him, raising an eyebrow. He didn't say anything, but he looked at Makoto with blank eyes. He didn't believe in ghosts, Makoto realized. He must think people who believed they saw ghosts were crazy. He wondered if that was what Sousuke would think of him from now on.

"You think there's a ghost in your home?" Sousuke asked. He sat down next to Makoto and took a can of cola. "Why?"

"Well ... we know that it's impossible for someone to have left unnoticed ... and it's pretty much clear that someone - or something - was in the bathroom, so ..." He trailed off.

"Ghosts don't exist," Sousuke said with a firm voice. "That's just some nonsense that only naive and simple people can believe." He turned to Makoto. His voice softened noticeably when he spoke his next words. "You just overreacted. You may have heard something from outside and just exaggerated the whole situation. That's all."

Makoto was inclined to disagree with him, but he didn't speak up. He knew it would be no use to argue with Sousuke. Besides, Sousuke's own beliefs had absolutely no impact on him. He was certain that his little apartment was indeed haunted. He sighed and took a pack of chips.

"Thanks for coming here though," he mumbled.

"Don't sweat about it," Sousuke replied. He suddenly grinned. "Your place is terrible to get to, by the way. I had to switch trains twice to come here."

"Oh, yeah ... Sorry about that." Makoto chuckled. "The house is in a really awkward place, I know. But it's very hard to find a nice apartment that's also in a good place, right?"

"I wouldn't know," Sousuke said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Well, I also don't have much experience." Makoto smiled. "But Ikuya told me how his brother had to move around quite a lot before finding a decent apartment."

"Hm." Sousuke's lips curled up, as if he'd just tasted something  bitter. "You two are close then, huh?"

"I suppose we are." Makoto scratched the back of his neck. "We've certainly known each other for a long time. He's always been very nice to me."

"Count yourself lucky. He treats others like crap."

"Oh ... n-no, I don't think he does it really. Not on purpose, at least. That's just the way he is. He's always been serious like that." Makoto struggled, trying to explain Ikuya's personality. He felt like it was important that Sousuke should understand the way Ikuya acted. "You're talking about Asahi and Kisumi, right? I know it seems like he's annoyed by them, but they're all very good friends. I know that Ikuya would do anything for them."

"I doubt it." Sousuke leaned back on the sofa and closed his eyes.

"That's the truth!" Makoto insisted loudly. "Ikuya is a very nice person. He just ... he hasn't always had a happy life. He used to think for a very long time that his brother hated him ... and, I suppose, it hasn't been easy for him ... figuring things out for himself ..." he blushed.

"We all have our problems. That's the way life is."

Makoto sighed. He knew that Sousuke himself had been through a lot, and was still suffering. He couldn't begin to imagine how much it hurt to lose one's dream. He could definitely understand where Sousuke’s cynicism was coming from. However, that didn't mean he had to agree with Sousuke's view and his friend’s bitter words left a nasty feeling in his heart.

* * *

"A ghost!" Asahi's voice was trembling with indignation. "You have a ghost in your home, Makoto, and you're keeping it from us?!"

Makoto sighed. He wasn't sure how his friends had found out about his home being haunted. He was sure Sousuke hadn't told them. Nevertheless, the cat was out of the bag, and now Makoto had to deal with Asahi and Kisumi. Their reaction was just what he had anticipated - which was the reason why he didn't want to tell them in the first place. He didn’t want this to turn into a bigger thing than it already was.

"I think that Makoto just wanted for us all to get together before telling us about his ghost." Kisumi laughed. "He'd never keep us out of this business, would he?"

"Huh? What business?" Makoto was confused. He wasn’t sure what his friend was talking about. He turned to Ikuya and Sousuke for an explanation, but neither of them said anything.

"The ghost, of course!" Kisumi rolled his eyes. "You're so slow, Makoto! You have a perfect opportunity to silence all the nay-sayers by showing them actual evidence. All you need is to just take a photo of the ghost! And just imagine - when we do that, we'll be rich and famous!"

"We?!"

"Yeah!" Asahi joined in. He looped an arm around Makoto's shoulders and pulled him closer. "You do know," he began, lowering his voice, "that a ghost can be very dangerous. If it's angry, it could attack and harm you. As your friends, we cannot let you risk your life alone. It's our duty as your friends to protect you!"

"A-ah ..."

Helpless, Makoto turned to Ikuya again. This time, he reacted. He frowned at Asahi before he spoke.

"Stop talking nonsense."

"But it's not!" Asahi retorted. "You believe in ghosts, right, Ikuya?"

"Yes. But I don't think that they would ever bother with us." He shrugged. "It seems very useless, chasing after ghosts."

“Yes, but imagine if we become famous!” Kisumi interjected. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“I plan on becoming famous either way. It won’t make too much of a difference whether I have a ghost photo or not.”

Both Asahi and Kisumi laughed, but Makoto noticed that Sousuke didn’t. He’d been in a bad mood ever since he was accused of criminal disbelief in ghosts. His friends’ childish glee had irritated him, and he spent the whole conversation staring at the floor. He had yet to utter a single word.

“Then it’s settled!” Kisumi announced. “The week after the next, there’s a long weekend, right? Then we’ll go to Makoto’s on Friday and we’ll set a trap for the ghost!” He rubbed his hands together in excitement.

“More like you’ll wreck his home and eat all his food,” Ikuya said, rolling his eyes.

“Then you should come too!” Asahi prompted him. “You can keep an eye on us.”

“Doubt it,” Ikuya replied coldly. “But still … I’m Makoto’s friends, and I can’t leave him at your mercy. Besides, I have no plans for that weekend.”

“Perfect!” Kisumi laughed and then turned to Sousuke. “What about you, Sousuke? You do realize, I hope, that you risk being responsible for our fate?”

“…? The hell are you talking about?”

“There’ll be just the four of us, if you don’t come. That’s bad luck.” Asahi smiled deviously. “But if you come, everything will be fine.”

“Bullshit.” Sousuke frowned. “Nothing will happen to you, and I have better things to do than waste my time with childish games.” He glared at Ikuya, which seemed odd to Makoto. After all, Kisumi and Asahi were the ones that were teasing.

“Whatever you say.” Kisumi smiled. “You’ll be sorry later.”

“I doubt it.” Sousuke laughed.

“Alright, then.” Asahi clapped his hands, calling for everyone’s attention. “We need to prepare. First – equipment!”

“I can get a pretty good video camera,” Kisumi volunteered.

“That’s perfect!” Asahi grinned. “It will be even better if we get the ghost on video! Okay then, besides that, we need to learn more about this ghost. That way it won’t be able to catch us by surprise.”

“Eh? But how can we learn more about it?”

“By delving into the past, of course!” Kisumi explained dramatically. “We’ll look in the archives. You said that the building you live in is 100 years old, right?”

“Even more than that, I think.”

“Then there must be some information about it. We can check old books, documents, even newspapers! We’re bound to find something.” He turned to Makoto. “And you can ask your landlady. She  must know something.”

“I don’t thi-” Makoto started, but stopped mid-thought. “Actually … maybe she does. The rent is very low, and I always wondered about that.”

Kisumi gasped, and he and Asahi leaned forward with a hungry look in their eyes.

“That settles it then!”

“Your home is _so_ haunted!”

Makoto felt uncomfortable. He was glad to see his friends so excited and happy about something, but the thought that there was a ghost in his home was still terrifying to him. He’d been able to cope with so far only because Sousuke had spent the previous night there. But Makoto couldn’t expect him to stay over every night. It seemed like he needed to find a new place to live. He knew that he could never feel safe in his own home again.

Ikuya must have figured out what he was thinking about. He looked at Makoto and gave him a sweet smile.

“I don’t think you need to be afraid,” he said. “Ghosts only attack if you anger them, everyone knows that. And you’re a nice person, Makoto; even a ghost would know that. You’re safe.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys gather at Makoto's to catch a ghost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, I wrote this in just one day while at work! This is a new record for me!

The days before the gathering were hard for Makoto. Despite all his efforts, he was scared when he was in his apartment. Every small noise, or play of light terrified him. He kept looking for reasons to spend as much time away from home as possible. The previous week he had visited Kisumi at work during the night shift and he’d stayed there until morning, simply because he was scared to sleep alone. The darkness in his bedroom felt dangerous to him.

So he was glad when the day of the gathering arrived. He felt more at ease when his friends where in his home. Despite that, he did feel a bit anxious as he listened to Asahi go on and on about how lucky he was. He didn’t see anything lucky about having a ghost in his home. There was nothing fun, he thought, in fearing for your life.

Even Sousuke was here. He’d said that he didn’t want anything to do with this silly business, but apparently, he had changed his mind. When Ikuya pointed that fact out, Sousuke just shrugged and said that it would be amusing to watch his friends act like fools.

The boys were sitting on the floor in the living room. Asahi and Kisumi had done an impressive amount of research, and they wanted to share it with the others. Before they did, Kisumi asked Makoto if he’d seen something unusual in the past days.

“No, nothing weird,” he replied. “I think that I heard some odd sounds a few days ago, but they could have been from the cat that keeps hanging around the house.” He couldn’t help but think that he’d somehow let his friends down, but Kisumi and Asahi didn’t look disappointed in the least.

Sousuke, on the other hand, couldn’t hide his smile. He’d been very nasty to Asahi and Kisumi these past couple of weeks. Their blind belief in the ghost amused him greatly and he didn’t miss a chance to mock them about it. Makoto didn’t like his behaviour. He thought it wasn’t right for someone to be so condescending to their friends. Ikuya obviously thought the same, because he turned to Sousuke and told him to get off his high horse.

“People have a right to believe whatever they want. You’re not the one who gets to decide what’s right and what isn’t.”

Unfortunately, Sousuke didn’t take the criticism well. His face darkened and he moved slightly away from the others. Asahi and Kisumi, though, didn’t notice anything was amiss. They were gleefully discussing their strategy.

“So, I didn’t find anything good about this place,” Kisumi was saying, reading from a piece of paper where he’d written down some facts. “It was built in 18-something and it used to be a mansion where some rich family lived. They sold it eventually, when the city started growing and the mansion was surrounded by other buildings. So the house remained empty for a while, and then it was bought by some guy that wanted to turn it into an orphanage. It didn’t work out, since the place was deemed unfit for that. So another guy bought it and separated the mansion’s rooms into small apartments that he started renting out to people. And it’s been the same ever since.” He pouted. “And none of that is of any use to us!”

“I didn’t find anything either,” Asahi said. “I looked in old newspapers and on the internet, but I couldn’t find anything about a murder ever being committed here!”

“M-murder?!” Makoto repeated.

“Yeah.” Asahi nodded. “Victims of murder always become ghosts. It’s a well-known fact. But,” he sighed, “there hasn’t been anything of the sort here.”

“Maybe there has!” Kisumi exclaimed. “But nobody knows it’s a murder. Look, Makoto said the ghost appeared in the bathroom, right? What if … what if someone was drowned in the bathtub, but everyone thought it was an accident or a suicide? And that’s why the ghost is here – because it has unfinished business. And that unfinished business is avenging his murder.”

“Yeah!” Asahi grinned. “That’s what must have happened! So, who would you pick as the victim?”

“Hmm …” Kisumi thought for a moment. “One of the rich people, obviously! Maybe one of them had a younger wife who killed him for his money?”

Ikuya laughed.

“You watch far too many thrillers,” he said with a smile. “A person doesn’t have to be killed to become a ghost.”

“Ikuya’s right,” Asahi said. “And besides, we don’t need to know who the ghost it. We just need to catch it on video.”

“Exactly,” Kisumi agreed. “Let’s go to the bathroom. We’re most likely to catch it there.”

The two headed there, while the others remained in the living room. A while later Ikuya stood up and walked to the kitchen corner.

“I’m hungry,” he explained. “You guys want something to eat?”

Makoto nodded, but Sousuke just frowned. He folded his arms in front of his chest and looked at Ikuya in annoyance.

“I doubt I’ll like anything you cook.”

“Indeed?” Ikuya looked amused. “I’ve always found your tastes so charmingly primitive. After all, cooked meat is one of the first recipes mankind mastered.”

Sousuke clenched his jaw, but he was unable to find a suitable remark to Ikuya’s teasing. He could only glare menacingly before turning around. Ikuya started preparing the food, a victorious smile dancing on his lips.

* * *

“Man, that’s delicious!” Asahi exclaimed. “Ikuya, I’d pay you to cook for me every day.”

“I’ll pass,” Ikuya replied. He put his empty plate down. “If I cook for you constantly, how will you learn to take care of yourself?”

“I can cook,” Asahi retorted. “I make very good sandwiches and toast! And just the other day,” he grinned proudly, “I made myself an omelette.”

“Impressive.”

Asahi missed the sarcasm, so he took the word as a compliment. His face lit up and he leaned forward.

“I’ll make you an omelette too, Ikuya,” he said quickly. “I can come to your place and make you a wonderful delicious breakfast. I’ll even bring it to you in bed, on a tray and everything.”

“Heyy, why does only Ikuya get special room-service?” Kisumi complained.

“Because!” Asahi said. “Besides, that way I can show Ikuya how nice and caring I can be.”

“A-ha! So that’s your goal!!!”

They began arguing. Ikuya, taking advantage of that, gathered the empty dishes and went to wash them. Makoto looked at Sousuke and smiled.

“Dinner was very tasty, right?”

“Yeah …” He agreed. His voice was lower than normal, and Makoto suspected that he didn’t want Ikuya to hear his admission. “I suppose Ikuya _can_ cook. I admit that.”

“But not to his face, huh?” Makoto chuckled.

Sousuke smiled as well and quickly turned his head away when Ikuya returned.

“Hey, we could leave some of the food Ikuya made as bait for the ghost,” Kisumi suggested.

“That’s not an animal, you idiot.” Sousuke growled.

“It could work! If I’ve been dead for a while, I’d miss food so much. So if you left food out for me, it’d definitely lure me in.”

“That can happen now too. You don’t need to be dead,” Ikuya said.

“That’s true.” Kisumi laughed. “They say that the fastest way to a man’s heart goes through the stomach. Ikuya, take a note.”

Ikuya didn’t reply.

After dinner, the boys stayed up a little longer. They watched a soccer match on TV, but none of them seemed to be paying much attention to the game. After it was over, Asahi and Kisumi discussed their plan. One of them would stay awake while the other slept, and after a few hours they'd trade places. That way if the ghost appeared, they'd see it. Makoto politely declined to take part in their nightly watch. With so many people in his home, he finally felt safe enough to have a good night's sleep. Ikuya and Sousuke firmly refused to have anything to do with their friends' hare-brained scheme.

Just as he had thought, Makoto had a peaceful night. He slept deeply, undisturbed by anything. He woke up the next morning, just after nine o'clock. At first he thought that the bright sunlight pouring into the room had roused him, but then he heard the voices.

"I think you owe me an apology, Ikuya."

It was Sousuke. He and Ikuya had apparently gone out in the garden, not knowing that the window in the bedroom was on the same side. Makoto could hear their voices so clearly, it was as if the two were standing in the room with him.

"An apology? For what?" Ikuya's voice was laced with innocent confusion.

"For the way you've been treating me."

"I treat people exactly how I've deemed they deserve to be treated." Now the innocence had faded away, and coldness seeped into his words. "If you think that I've been treating you poorly, then you need to look at your own behaviour, _Sousuke_."

His short speech was met with silence. After a few minutes, Sousuke spoke.

"Don't think, even for a second," he said, "that you've managed to fool me like the others. I know perfectly well what kind of a person you are."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. You like being the center of attention, don't you? And everyone to just worship you?" Sousuke was talking with such resentment in his voice, it made Makoto curl up in bed. "That's why you enjoy messing with Asahi and Kisumi."

"Except that I don’t," Ikuya said coldly.

"Well, you sure don't try to stop them."

"Because I know they won't." He explained.

"Look, I don't think you're the kind of person who'd just stand something they don't like. If Asahi and kisumi keep acting like idiots around you, then it's on you."

"You can think whatever you wish about me. I don't intend on giving you or anyone else an explanation about my life." Ikuya was speaking calmly. "I don't care what you think about me, Sousuke. But if you find it easier for you to hate me, then by all means, keep doing it by."

"Easier?!" Sousuke sounded confused. "What are you talking about?"

Ikuya said nothing. His footsteps gradually faded, and Makoto assumed he'd walked away. He decided he'd heard enough, and got out of bed.

* * *

Asahi and Kisumi left very disappointed. Their plan had failed spectacularly. Still, it didn't seem that they were ready to give up. As they were packing their luggage, Kisumi said that they needed to come back some other time to try again. He also added that once left alone in the apartment, Makoto would be able to see the ghost and take a picture of it.

Makoto saw them off and then returned to the living room. He found Ikuya sitting on the sofa, leaning back and with one leg under him. He looked like normal, and if Makoto didn't know better, he'd never guess anything out of the ordinary had happened. Ikuya was a stark contrast to Sousuke who'd looked visibly distressed. He'd left immediately after the conversation they'd had, explaining his swift departure with a doctor's appointment.

"Well, this wasn't a very successful ghost hunt, eh?" Makoto said, sitting down next to Ikuya. "I don't think Kisumi and Asahi will give up though."

"They never give up."

Makoto flinched, remembering that Ikuya had said something similar to Sousuke. He looked at his friend, wondering what Ikuya was thinking about. He could be very unreadable when he wanted to. At this moment, his face showed no emotion.

"Yeah ..." Makoto scratched the back of his neck. "Ikuya ... I ... um ... I heard what you said to Sousuke this morning. I w-wasn't eavesdropping or anything like that! I could just ... hear you in my room..."

"It doesn't matter if you've eavesdropped or not. Our conversation wasn't of any significance." Ikuya shrugged.

"But ... I don't think you're being very nice to Sousuke," Makoto said quietly. "He's a nice person ... and I'm sure that if you just give him a chance, you two can become good friends."

Ikuya watched him silent for a while. Then he smiled sweetly.

"I'm grateful for your efforts, Makoto. But Sousuke's a big boy. I think he can settle his own problems."

"I just ... I like our group. I don't want it to split apart," Makoto admitted, looking down.

"It won't," Ikuya assured him. "Or rather ... the most I can promise you is that it won't split apart becauseof me." He was silent for a minute, then he suddenly burst into laughter. "I sometimes wish I were like you, Makoto!"

"Huh? Why?"

"I think I'd be much happier to just accept things at face value." he said thoughtfully. "Or maybe not ... it all depends, really ..."

Makoto wasn't sure how to respond to that. He thought that perhaps Ikuya's words were not directed at him. He sighed and looked around. After most of his friends had left, the apartment seemed unpleasantly empty.

"I won't be able to sleep again ..." he mumbled.

"Why? Are you scared to be alone here?"

"A little ..." He blushed.

"Don't be. I told you, you're not in any danger."

"Ikuya ... you believe in ghosts. right?" Ikuya nodded and Makoto continued. "But ... have you ever actually seen a ghost?"

Ikuya didn't repliy immediately. He played with the hem of his shirt for a while, trying to pull put a loose thread. He had an odd look on his face.

"No," he finally replied. "I've never seen a ghost. But there have been some weird things." He was silent for a few seconds. "When I was in high school, my grandpa passed away. He'd been sick for about a year before, so it wasn't something unexpected, you see? It still hurt, though." He swiped a strand of hair away from his face. "On the day of the funeral, I wanted to be in the hearse with my grandfather's coffin. We were close, so I thought I owed him as much. I was sitting in the seat next to the driver. The car drove up the hill to the cemetery ... and the door to my seat opened. I had no time to react, and I was going to fall out and roll under the wheels. But I didn't, because ... because the door closed again, all by itself. What's more - it _locked_ itself."

Makoto was listening with an open mouth.

"You think that was your grandfather?" He asked when Ikuya was finished.

"Yes. I think he watches over me now. Sort of like a guardian angel. That's why I don't believe ghosts can do anyone harm." He looked at Makoto. "I think ... I think that you need to try talking to this ghost of yours. Without us around. I mean, you both live here, so to speak. Might do well to talk it out, y'know?" Without waiting for an answer, he stood up. "I have to go; I'm meeting my brother later."

"Oh, okay..." Makoto muttered. He walked with Ikuya to the front door. "Hey, Ikuya ... thanks."

"No problem, Makoto." Ikuya smiled. "Try doing what I trold you. You won't really risk anything if you do, do you?" With that, he left.

Makoto remained in the hallway. He looked at the bathroom with uncertainty. He was sure that Ikuya had meant well with his advice, but he was still afraid. He wasn't sure if he had it in him to do as Ikuya had suggested. How did one start up a conversation with a ghost anyway?!

He spent quite a lot of time pondering, but ultimately decided to try his luck. As Ikuya had pointed out, he had nothing to lose. And if this meant that Makoto could finally feel at peace in his home, then he was willing to take the risk. He nodded to himself and walked to the bathroom.

He knocked on the door before going in. He wasn't sure why he did that, it just seemed like the right thing. He stood in front of the bathtub and hesitated. He thought that if he spoke too loudly, his neighbours would hear him. So he began with a low voice.

"Um ... you're probably around here somewhere, right? Ahh ... I'm Makoto. I live here now ... and so do you, I gather. And ... um ... if you c-could ... um ... appear. Now. I'd really ... uh ... appreciate it." He thought that he must look ridiculous, talking to the empty bathtub. "W-well, um .... thanks?"

He waited, but nothing happened. Makoto didn't know what to expect, but he had thought that something would occur. He'd been clear with his intentions, he hoped. Maybe the ghost just didn't want to appear? He sighed and turned around to leave.

There was someone standing in front of him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto and Haru meet. It doesn't go well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not completely satisfied with how this chapter turned out, but I edited it over and over without any result, so I guess it's gonna stay like this.
> 
> The next chapter is gonna be either fluff or angst, it all depends on where my inspiration takes me. So look forward to that! Also, I noticed every chapter gets longer by a hundred or so words. By the time I get to end, the last one will probably be 5k, lol!

The ghost’s presence startled Makoto, but what shocked him more was his absence of reaction. It seemed that actually seeing the ghost was too overwhelming for him and Makoto couldn’t respond adequately to it. He’d known that there was something in his apartment, but having his suspicions proven was upsetting. He took a step backwards.

And actually … the ghost wasn’t scary-looking at all. He was a boy about Makoto’s age, with dark hair falling over stunning blue eyes. He was looking at Makoto unblinkingly and with an open and calm expression. He didn’t look how Makoto had thought he would. Makoto had imagined something much more demonic.

“Um …” Makoto managed to mutter. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to start. “H-hey …”

“You said you wanted to see me,” the boy spoke. His voice was nice, Makoto thought, and not ghostly or echoing at all. He had a slight accent. “Here I am.”

“So you _are_ real …” His fear was suddenly pushed aside by shame. “Y-you … you’ve watched me in the bathroom … while I did all kinds of things!” He flushed.

The blue-eyed boy looked at him and frowned. He made a step forward.

“I didn’t watch you,” he replied. He looked offended. “Why should I? Humans think this isn’t right to do. I’ve been in this house long enough to know this.”

“How long have you been here?” Makoto asked, curious despite his nervousness. “How long have you been, uh … dead?”

He hesitated before voicing his question. It seemed rude to ask such a thing. The ghost obviously thought so too, because he didn’t answer. He just scowled at him and then disappeared without uttering another word. Makoto remained in place, waiting in case the boy came back. Finally, he had to admit defeat, and left the bathroom. He must have offended the ghost, he thought miserably.

Although his encounter with the ghost was shorter than expected, Makoto thought that he had achieved what he wanted. He’d met the ghost that was tormenting him, and after seeing how harmless the boy looked, he wasn’t scared anymore. True, the thought that he was sharing his home with a strange dead guy was still unpleasant. But at least now he knew that the ghost meant him no harm. One couldn’t have it all, Makoto supposed.

He spent the rest of the morning doing chores around the house. He’d just finished arranging his wardrobe when he noticed it was time for him to leave unless he wanted to be late. He’d arranged to meet with Hayato and a few other people from work. Hayato, who seemed to have acquaintances from all around the city, had told him that one of the culinary colleges was having a fair. They’d sell food the students had prepared there, he had explained, and he’d suggested they check it out. Makoto had readily agreed to go.

The fair was fun. Makoto had the time of his life, trying out all kinds of food. There was some that seemed weird and gross to him, like fried chicken with mashed pears, but most of it was tasty traditional meals. He liked the seafood stalls the most because the food there reminded him of his home. He even felt a bit nostalgic, and decided to call his parents that evening.

When he arrived home in the late afternoon, he was carrying a lot of food that he’d bought at the fair. He’d gone a bit overboard, spending more money than he’d intended. The week before getting paid would be tough for him, Makoto knew. He did find some consolation in the thought that money spent on food was seldom wasted. He stored the food in the fridge, calculating that it would last him for at least four days. Then he lied down on the sofa, stretching blissfully. It’d been quite a while since he’d felt so happy. He’d been smiling the whole day without being able to stop himself. Even his co-workers had noticed his sudden mood change.

“I think you got lucky with some girl, ah?” Hayato had said, grinning inappropriately. Makoto couldn’t find a suitable remark to that jape, and had to silently endure his co-workers’ teasing.

A sudden noise interrupted his thoughts. He looked up startled and saw that his ghost had opened the fridge and was looking through all the packages he’d brought. He stood up and went to him.

"H-hey!" He wondered why the ghost was interested in his food. As far as Makoto knew, ghosts didn't need food. "Y-you ... uh ... I don't know your name ... B-but what do you think you're doing?"

"Haru. That's my name," the ghost replied with a calm voice. "I smell mackerel. I like mackerel, it tastes good."

"You can't just take my food like that!" Makoto protested. "A-and ... can you even eat?"

"Of course," Haru said. "If I don't eat, I will die."

"But ... you're dead already ..." Makoto mumbled slowly. Perhaps Haru didn't know he was a ghost? Makoto had heard stories like that - of deceased people who refused to accept they were dead, and so they lingered on as ghosts, doing what they used to do when they were alive. The thought made him shudder slightly. Then he noticed something odd. "Those are my clothes!"

He'd easily recognized the olive green pants and striped sweater. He'd brought them from home when he moved to Tokyo, but they had disappeared at some point. Makoto had assumed that he'd lost them while doing laundry. But now he realized that Haru must have taken them. The clothes were far too big for his small body and he looked a bit pathetic in them.

"You stole my clothes?!" Makoto asked with a trembling voice.

"I borrowed them. They're comfortable and warm." Haru shrugged.

"T-that ... that doesn't excuse it!" Makoto insisted. "You shouldn't steal."

"I know. But I had no clothes, so I needed yours."

Makoto tried to remember if he'd noticed Haru's clothes that morning. He hadn't paid much attention to them, mainly because of the shock he'd felt at that moment.

In the meantime Haru had finally found what he'd been looking for. It was mackerel with curry and rice, baked in a round bun. He bit into it, his face showing absolute pleasure. As irritated as Makoto was, he couldn't help but feel happy when he watched him. At the same time, he started to realize that perhaps Haru had been telling him the truth after all.

"You're really not a ghost, huh?" He asked. "Then ... what are you?"

"I don't know." Haru shrugged. "Nobody's ever told me."

Makoto didn't say anything. He wasn't sure what to say to this creature, and Haru didn't look too interested in him at that moment anyway. He was focused on the food. As Makoto watched him, he felt a tinge of sadness, thinking that Haru must have been famished. He would have preferred to let Haru eat in peace, but there were still a few questions that needed an answer.

"What are you doing in my home?" If Haru wasn’t a ghost, then his presence in the apartment was even more disturbing than what Makoto had initially thought.

"It's my home too," Haru explained. "I lived here before you arrived. _You_ moved into _my_ home."

"B-but ... I'm paying the rent here! It's my home!" Makto insisted. "Look, if you're not a ghost, then you can go and live someplace else, right? You d-don't need to be _here_."

"Yes I do!" Haru exclaimed, raising his voice. "I've been here before you! This is my home, this is the only place I've ever known. If someone needs to leave, it's _you_!"

He put his unfinished food down on the counter and disappeared. Makoto sighed. He wondered where Haru went when he disappeared like that. He probably wasn’t too far away - from what it seemed, he was intent on staying here. Makoto shook his head and then ran his fingers through his hair.

"I think I would have been better off with a ghost ..." He muttered under his breath.

* * *

Haru didn't reappear in the next few days. He wasn't gone, Makoto was sure about that. One morning, he'd left him some food in the bathroom. When he'd come home, he found that it had disappeared. So Haru was still lurking around. He just didn't want to talk to Makoto. Makoto felt hurt by that. He may have angered Haru by asking him to leave, but he felt that he hadn't done anything bad enough to earn him such harsh treatment.

"Makoto?"

"Hm?" Makoto looked up from his notes. Sousuke was looking at him. "What is it?"

"Nothing. It's just ... class is already over."

Makoto noticed that the people around him were already preparing to leave. He stood up and hastily started to pack his belongings.

"Right! Sorry, I was thinking about something."

"I see that." Sousuke gave him an odd look. "Are you feeling well? You're not still thinking about that bullshit with the ghost, are you?"

"N-no."

It wasn't _really_ a lie. Haru wasn't a ghost, after all.

"Alright." Sousuke looked relieved. "This whole business was pretty nasty to you. I think Asahi and Kisumi were having fun scaring you with their stories."

"I don't think they were doing it on purpose." Makoto smiled.

"That's the bad thing about them. They never do it on purpose," Sousuke said. "Hey, Makoto, you sure you're okay?" He added worried, after Makoto walked right into a trash can.

"Y-yeah ... I just ... uh ... had a little disagreement with a friend. A neighbour, actually."

Makoto rubbed his aching knee. He didn't feel good lying to his friend, but he didn't want anyone knowing about Haru, at least for the time being. And besides, it would be quite embarrassing to admit that he was upset because the creature that lived in his bathroom was snubbing him!

"Oh." Sousuke frowned. "What was it about?"

"We just can't agree on how to ... uh ... live as neighbours. He keeps taking my stuff and thinks it's okay."

"Tell him he should stop. Don't let that guy bully you, okay?"

"Eh?? Who's bullying our Makoto?"

Kisumi had appeared out of nowhere. He nudged himself between Makoto and Sousuke and then repeated his question.

"So, who's bullying Makoto? Should we go and teach 'em a lesson, Sousuke?"

"Don't be an idiot ..." Sousuke sighed.

"Ah, Kisumi, nobody is bullying me," Makoto said, waving his hands defensively. "I'm just having this spat with a neighbor."

"Oh, I see," Kisumi said. He nodded sagely and then smiled. "Y'know, Sousuke and I used to fight a lot."

"What do you mean used to?" Sousuke asked gruffly. "You still throw your goddamn dirty socks on my bed."

"Yeah, yeah ..." Kisumi brushed his complaint aside. "Makoto, the truth is, sometimes it's hard to get along with people. And you can't ignore them either! So my advice is to just talk to this neighbour of yours. Y'know, set some rules."

"Rules?" That actually sounded like a good idea.

"Yeah! Like with me and Sousuke - we have these rules so that we'll get as roommates. Like how Sousuke agreed to take out the trash and I agreed not to throw my dirty socks on his pillow."

"You still throw them on my bed, moron!"

"But, Sousuke, I explained to you that it's just so much easier to..."

Makoto stopped listening to them. He was thinking about what Kisumi had suggested. If Haru was truly intent on staying in his apartment, then perhaps it might be a good idea for the two to talk. They needed to learn how to live together, at least until one of them could leave. Makoto could only hope that Haru would be sensible about it.

When he went home that evening, he found that the light in his bathroom was on. He went to the door and knocked on it.

"Um ... Haru? I-is that you?"

There was a splash of water, followed by an echoing yes.

"W-what are you doing?"

"I'm in the bathtub," came the calm reply.

"Aaahh ... why?"

Another splash.

"I like water."

"O ... okay." Makoto cleared his throat. "When you're done, can we talk?"

There was a long pause. Makoto waited, growing more and more anxious. He had the feeling that he always said the wrong thing to Haru. No matter what he did, their conversations always ended with Haru disappearing. He just started thinking that Haru might have disappeared again when the bathroom door opened. Haru stood in front of him. Makoto was glad that he’d had the decency to put his clothes on. The only sign that he’d been taking a bath were the little water droplets in his hair that shone like pearls.

"What do you want?" He asked.

"Well ... um ..." Makoto cleared his throat again. "It seems like we'll be sharing the apartment."

"Can't you go someplace else?"

"..." He shook his head. "No. I ... can't afford a better place than this. And I suppose you still don't want to leave." He looked at him. Haru simply frowned in response. "That's what I thought. So, I was thinking ... maybe it would be good for us to talk things out? Set some rules, so that we don't have any problems ... W-well?"

Haru was silent for a while. His eyes grew distant as he contemplated Makoto's suggestion. Finally, he spoke.

"I think that's a good idea."

"Great!"

Makoto smiled in relief. He went to sit on the sofa, and after some hesitation, Haru followed him. He sat at the end of the sofa carefully and looked at Makoto, waiting for him to start talking.

"Um ... s-so ... you haven't been bothering me a lot, which is good. I have no complaints there." Makoto began. "Um ... I would appreciate it if you asked me before taking my things. I-is that ok?"

"I understand. I'll ask you from now on." Haru nodded. "But in that case you have to tell your friends to stop hunting me. It's annoying."

"Oh." Makoto blushed. "You know about that ..."

"Yes." Haru pouted. "It's not nice being chased in my own home."

"Y-yeah ... um ... I'll talk to my friends. I promise that they won't bother you again." Makoto felt awkward - after all, he was kind of responsible for his friends' actions. "I'm sorry. W-we all thought you were a ghost and they wanted a photo of you."

"How stupid. There are no ghosts here." Haru's voice was quiet. "Do you have any more rules?"

"Well ... I can't think of any right now. Just ... well ... we should both do our best to be nice to each other, I think. We should help each other, and just try to get along as best as we can." He scratched the back of his head. "I think that's it for now?"

Haru nodded.

"But," Makoto continued, "I think that we should get to know each other better? I mean, it might help us." He cleared his throat. "S-so, I'll start. My name is Makoto. I'm from a little town called Iwatobi. I have two younger siblings. Er ... I came here to study. I want to become a swimming coach and work with kids." He ran his fingers through his hair and laughed. "Wow, this is harder than I thought. I don't know what else I should say ... What about you, Haru?"

Haru was silent for a while. Then he shrugged.

"I don't know."

"Well ... do you have a family somewhere?"

"I don't remember them."

"Oh ..." Makoto was taken aback for a second. He quickly recovered, and tried again. "You said you liked water, right? Why?"

"It's nice. It makes me feel safe and happy." Haru livened up a bit, and a small smile graced his lips as he talked. "Water's always been there." He was silent for a couple of minutes, and then he stood up. "I'm going back in the bathtub."

He went in the bathroom. Makoto remained on the sofa. He was lucky, he thought, to have his utility bills covered by his landlady. He didn't even want to think how much water Haru was using.

* * *

He woke up before his alarm. That was unusual for him. Makoto wondered what could have disturbed his sleep. Then he noticed the smell. Someone was cooking. Intrigued, Makoto stood up and went to the kitchen. He found Haru standing over the stove, mixing something in a pan.

"You can cook?"

"Yes." Haru nodded. "I was taught."

He was wearing an apron over his clothes and Makoto wondered where he'd got it from. It wasn't his, he was certain of it. Makoto had never owned such an attire. Whenever he cooked, he just let his clothes get dirty. Then he realized that the apron wasn't the only thing in the kitchen that had appeared out of nowhere.

"Haru ... Where did you get that food?"

Haru was cooking meat with vegetables and Makoto was sure he hadn't bought any of them. Instead of answering, Haru just turned to him with a smile and then pressed a finger against his lips.

"But, Haru! You can't do that!" Makoto protested. "If someone finds out, I'll be the one in trouble and then-"

"Try this," Haru interrupted him, handing him a spoonful of vegetables.

Makoto pouted, but he was far too famished to be able to resist the smell. He took the spoon and tried Haru's cooking. The taste exceeded any expectations he had. The vegetables were perfectly cooked and spiced. It was simply _perfect_.

"Mmm!" He licked his lips. "Haru, this is really good! Who taught you to cook?"

“…” Haru looked away. “A friend.”

“This is delicious! I don’t think I’ve ever eaten anything so good. I think you have a natural talent for cooking.” He gave Haru a warm smile. “Thank you. It’s really nice of you to cook something like that.”

Haru’s eyes widened slightly at the praise. He blushed and turned to the stove again.

“You said yesterday,” he replied, “that we’re living under one roof now and we need to be nice to each other. That’s all I’m doing.”

“Well, thank you all the same.” Makoto laughed. “You cook better than me.”

“I know.” Haru smiled.

They had breakfast together. Makoto enjoyed it, and he thought that Haru was having a nice time too. Eating alone was very demoralizing, he’d found. He tried to start a conversation, but Haru only gave vague responses, so he gave up.

When they were done, he saw there was still some food left.

“For you later,” Haru explained. “I know that you make yourself food to eat during the day.”

Makoto felt flattered. He thought that Haru may act cold, but he was actually nice and caring. Makoto hadn’t expected that he’d go out of his way to cook for him. Nobody had ever done that.

_I’ll have to do something nice for Haru too. I bet he’d like it._


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It turns out Haru doesn't like seances.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys! ^_^ So I know I said this was either going to be fluff or angst, but I didn't like how the chapter turned out with angst - it seemed too OOC - so I'll keep the angst for later. There will be fluff too, I promise!
> 
> Anyway, I hope you like this chapter, and if you do, then please check out my other stories. I promise they're not that terrible, lol!

“I’m home.”

Makoto took his shoes off and went in the living room. He found Haru on the sofa, watching TV. Ever since he’d stopped hiding from Makoto, Haru had been watching a lot of television. He preferred watching the news and talk shows rather than movies. Makoto suspected that he was more interested in people than he wanted to admit and this was his way of learning more about them.

Haru didn’t return his greetings, but Makoto didn’t let himself be bothered by that. He knew that Haru wasn’t doing it out of rudeness. He just wasn’t used to proper etiquette. He would probably need some time to learn.

“I’ll go take a shower,” Makoto said, and Haru nodded absentmindedly.

They’d been living together for a few weeks now, and on the whole, Makoto couldn’t complain. True, Haru was still bringing food and refusing to explain where he’d got it from, which bothered him. But so far nobody had come to ask him about it, and Makoto did save some money that way, so in the end conscience was pushed aside and pragmatism took over the reins.

Haru was silent most of the time, but he was still good company. Makoto hadn’t realized how lonely he’d felt in his apartment until he found out how different it was with Haru around. They spent most of their evenings watching television. They didn’t talk much, but from time to time Haru asked questions about Makoto’s studies and about swimming in general. He’d been pleasantly surprised to learn that there were people who shared his love for water.

Despite having a nice time, Makoto felt he’d be happier if he knew something about Haru. He wasn’t sure if his supernatural roommate was hiding his past on purpose, or if he didn’t really remember much about it. Whatever the case was, he’d noticed that Haru rarely spoke about himself. Makoto couldn’t really understand why Haru refused to trust him, and that upset him.

While he washed his hair, he thought about his friends. They still didn’t know about Haru. Makoto didn’t mind telling them, but Haru had insisted that he didn’t want to meet his friends, and so Makoto kept quiet about him. Still, he noticed that Ikuya always gave him an odd look whenever they had lunch together. He probably knew that there was no way Makoto could have prepared the food he brought. He never said anything, but a small ironic smile was always on his lips.

When he went out of the bathroom, Makoto took his dinner out of the fridge and sat down next to Haru. He’d noticed that Haru seemed to remember what kinds of meals he was fond of, and made them more often than others. Such attention made Makoto feel happy.

“The weather is terrible today,” Makoto commented while he and Haru were watching the weather forecast. “And it’s getting colder with each day.”

“Mm.”

“Well, it is October.” Makoto laughed. He didn’t let Haru’s indifference dishearten him. “I bet there’ll be storms soon. I’ll have to buy myself a rain jacket.”

“Why?”

“Well, because of the rain,” Makoto replied.

Haru fell silent and Makoto said nothing more. He finished his dinner and went to wash the dishes. Haru had eaten before Makoto came home. Recently, Makoto was late coming to his apartment because he’d been taking extra shifts at work. A small flu epidemic had left them understaffed and the remaining healthy employees had double the work to do because of it. It was hell at work right now, and Makoto always felt crushed whenever he had to work a double shift. The one good thing in this whole ordeal was that they would get paid for their additional efforts. Still, this didn’t mean that Makoto enjoyed having his free time so significantly shortened. He’d fallen behind in some of his classes, and he was worried about his grades.

Haru had left his dirty dishes in the sink. He never washed them, but that didn’t bother Makoto. It seemed fair that he’d do the dishes. Haru did the cooking, after all. And Makoto found the task relaxing, especially after a tough day at work.

When he was done, he decided to go to bed. He was far too tired, and he could barely keep his eyes open.

“Do you want a blanket, Haru?” He asked. “It gets very cold during the night, and the heating still isn’t on.”

Haru sometimes slept on the sofa. Makoto hadn’t known about that until he’d found him there one morning. When he asked Haru why he hadn’t said anything about it, the latter had just shrugged and explained that he didn’t think it was something important.

“I’m not cold,” Haru replied. “Are you going to bed?”

“Yeah.” Makoto nodded. “I’m tired. I can’t wait for Sunday to come, I plan on sleeping till noon then!” He laughed. “Well, good night, Haru.”

“Yeah …”

Makoto went to his bedroom. He changed into his pyjamas and went to bed. He was soon sleeping deeply.

He woke up some time during the night. At first he thought that it was raining outside, but then he realized that the noise he was hearing was the shower in his bathroom. Haru was probably in there, he thought. He often got up during the night to take a bath or to shower. Makoto smiled and closed his eyes. The sound of falling water soothed him and he was soon sleeping again.

* * *

A few days later something concerning happened. Makoto was just entering the garden when he heard someone calling his name. It turned out to be his landlady, Honda-san. She was an elderly, sour woman who always made Makoto feel inferior. He didn’t like her much. As he watched her walk down the path towards him, he got a nasty feeling in his stomach.

“Ah, Tachibana! I was just coming to see you.” Honda-san had a thin voice that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

“Y-yes?” He spoke politely.

“Some of the other tenants told me that they heard voices in your apartment.” The woman was watching him with suspicion. “In your contract, you declared you would be living alone. If there is someone else living in that apartment, they need to pay rent too!”

“Oh!” Makoto blushed. He should have known that due to the thin walls, someone might catch onto them. “W-well … nobody’s living there but me. I just have friends that visit me often.” It wouldn’t be a good idea to tell the truth about Haru. He could easily imagine all the problems that would develop from it. Besides, he was certain that even if Honda-san knew that Haru wasn’t a human, she’d still want her rent money.

“I see,” the woman said slowly. “Then you have nothing against me examining your apartment right away?”

“Of course not.” Makoto smiled sweetly.

She wouldn’t find anything, he knew. He and Haru had discussed such a situation. Haru didn’t want a lot of people to know about him, so he was ready to hide the moment an outsider entered the apartment. Makoto wasn’t worried that Honda-san would see him. So he confidently led the woman to the front door. He went inside the apartment and invited his landlady in. He was talking in his usual voice, but he was certain that Haru would hear him. And indeed, when the two entered the living room, they found the place empty.

Honda-san wasn’t satisfied. She checked the bathroom and the bedroom. When she couldn’t find anyone there, she made up an excuse to look through Makoto’s wardrobe. It seemed like she wanted to make sure that only his possessions were in it.

Makoto was having fun watching the elderly woman scuttle around the apartment like a cockroach. Her apparent disappointment was a priceless sight and he couldn’t help smiling.

“Well, you don’t seem to be harboring anyone right now,” Honda-san said finally. Her voice was resentful. “But I will keep my eye on you, Tachibana. I may be old, but I still have my wits about me! You can expect me again very soon.”

“Alright,” he replied politely.

He walked her to the door and stood there, waving at her for goodbye. When he closed the door and turned around, he saw Haru standing behind him.

“I’ve always hated her,” Haru said with a cold voice.

He’d been living in the apartment for far longer than Makoto – thought Makoto wasn’t sure _exactly_ how long that was – so he must have seen Honda-san often before. He obviously meant what he’d said, but Makoto couldn’t agree with him.

“I think hate is a strong word,” he retorted. “But I don’t like Honda-san either; I think she’s a very unpleasant woman. She’s very greedy – she’s always thinking about money.”

“Her husband was a horrible person too. I think he abused her.”

“Oh, he did?” Makoto was confused. “Then maybe it’s no wonder that Honda-san has such a difficult personality. If she’s really lived with such a man …”

Haru shrugged.

“She chose him. She could have left him at any time,” he said. “I have no sympathy for someone just because they chose to suffer.”

“That’s very cold,” Makoto scolded him. “It’s not nice to think that way.”

Haru pouted and turned his back to him.

“Are you hungry?” He asked. “I made green curry. I know you like it.”

“I like everything you make, Haru. You’re a very good cook.” Makoto laughed. Still, he was grateful. It was always nice to come home tired and get his favorite meal for dinner.

He followed Haru into the living room. Haru scooped the food he’d prepared into two plates. Makoto helped him by taking some cups out. He made himself tea – Haru rarely drank anything but water – and then the two carried everything to the coffee table. They didn’t have a dining table, because the apartment was way too small to put one in.

They didn’t talk much while they were eating. Makoto turned the TV on. He flipped through the channels and then stopped on a game show. Some man had just won a large sum of money. Makoto smiled and pointed at the screen with his chopsticks.

“It would be nice hitting the jackpot, huh?” He asked. “But I don’t think I’d enjoy being shown on TV. I don’t like being the center of attention.”

“What would you do with so much money?”

“Mmm … I’ll pay for my education. Maybe I’ll give part of it to my parents, and then put the rest in my bank account.”

“Will you move away?”

“O! W-well … I dunno … maybe …” He was a bit confused, but then he laughed. “But that’s just a dream scenario. I don’t think I’ll ever have so much money.”

“Why not? These game shows say that everybody has a chance to win.”

“Well, yeah … they _say_ that, but not everyone has a chance, realistically speaking. That would just be bad business, right? And besides, I have very bad luck with games.” Makoto laughed again.

Haru said nothing. He gathered the empty dishes and took them to the sink. Makoto was just getting up to go and wash them when the doorbell rang. Haru turned around to look at him inquiringly and he just shrugged in response. As he made his way to the door, he saw Haru had already disappeared.

He opened the door and saw Kisumi and Asahi. He was surprised – he didn’t remember inviting them over, and his friends rarely came by unannounced.

“Ah, Makoto! We were hoping you were home,” Kisumi said. “We came to talk to your ghost. We think that we might have a chance this time.”

“Oh!” Makoto blushed. “I told you, guys, that after that day, nothing weird’s happened here. I think the ghost is gone.”

He’d already talked with his friends about it. He’d promised Haru he’d do so. Asahi had been disappointed to hear the ghost had left, but Ikuya had seemed happy. When he and Makoto were alone, he’d told him that he was glad to hear that Makoto would no longer be scared in his home. He’d also pointed out that Makoto had seemed much happier than he’d ever seen him.

“Or maybe your ghost is just hiding,” Kisumi said. “Asahi and I bought one of these boards that people use to talk to ghosts.”

“Ouija board,” Asahi added.

“Yeah, that’s the name.”

Smiling, Kisumi walked past Makoto and made his way to the living room. Asahi was on his heels and, after some hesitance, Makoto closed the door and followed them. Kisumi turned the TV off and then pushed the coffee table back so that he could clear more space. He sat down on the floor and took a cardboard square out of his backpack. Despite his worries, Makoto watched with interest. So far he hadn’t seen a real-life Ouija board. He had no idea how one was supposed to use it.

While his friends were preparing the board, Makoto looked around anxiously. He had promised Haru that his friends wouldn’t bother him anymore. He felt a bit guilty, as if he were responsible for this sudden séance. He should have realized that Asahi and Kisumi could hardly forget something as sensational as a ghost.

“Ok! Makoto, you have to sit down too! We need to make a circle,” Asahi instructed him.

Makoto did so. Kisumi put some strange ring on the board and ordered the other two boys to put their fingers on it.

“But don’t press on it too hard! Just touch it lightly. The ghost has to move it.”

“Uh … H-how will you talk to the … uh, ghost?” Makoto asked timidly.

“We’ll ask it questions, and it will answer by moving the ring on each letter, until a word is formed,” Asahi explained. “Now … what should we ask first?”

“The first thing you do is ask if the ghost is there,” Kisumi replied. “I’ve seen it in movies.”

“Sounds good.” Asahi nodded. He frowned in concentration, and his voice became deeper and more ceremonious. “Oh, ghost, answer our question! Are you here?”

The three of them waited, watching the board. Asahi and Kisumi were holding their breath, waiting for confirmation from the ghost. Makoto was also on edge, but for completely different reasons. He _knew_ there was something in his home, and he knew that this something was _not_ a ghost. He waited, worried and wondering if Haru would even do something. Minutes passed by slowly, but nothing happened.

Kisumi urged Asahi to repeat his question. Sometimes ghosts had troubles understanding questions the first time, he explained.

“Oh, ghost, I compel you,” Asahi began with the same deep voice, “if you are here, give us a sign!”

Some time passed, and still nothing happened. Makoto was about to sigh in relief, when the lights went out. He heard his friends exclaim loudly.

“This isn’t a power outage, is it?”

“I don’t think it is!”

It was so dark in the room that Makoto could barely see the two dark figures in front of him. He knew - or at least suspected - that this was Haru’s doing, but for some reason he couldn’t help but feel slightly scared. He didn’t know what Haru’s goal was. If he’d meant to frighten Asahi and Kisumi, his plan had backfired. The two were talking animatedly, as if this was exactly what they had expected.

“Asahi, I can’t see the board at all. Is the ring moving?”

 “No. I’m still holding it, but it’s not moving.”

“Then ask the ghost something. If you don’t, you won’t get any-”

**SLAP!**

Makoto was startled by the sudden noise. Kisumi moaned, and Asahi exclaimed and began talking even louder, asking question after question. Makoto stood up and blindly groped about, trying to find the light switch.

**SLAP!**

This time it was Asahi who cried out in pain. Makoto managed to find the switch and turned the lights back on. He saw his friends, still sitting on the floor, rubbing the backs of their heads. Asahi’s skin was bright red from the impact, and he had no doubt it was the same with Kisumi.

“Asahi! Was that you?!”

“No, of course! It must have been the ghost!”

“Ghosts don’t hit people! They can’t – they don’t have a solid body!”

“Well, then, it must have been Makoto!” Asahi said accusingly, but his suggestion was met with laughter. “Well, then, if you don’t believe it, then it must have been you, Kisumi! You must have been planning this for a long time, huh?”

“Me? Never!”

Pausing their argument for a while, they decided, that there was no use continuing their séance. Kisumi put away the board and after apologizing to Makoto for barging in like that, the two left. Even after they were out of the apartment, Makoto could still hear their quarrelling voices.

He sighed and returned to the living room. Haru wasn’t there, but Makoto saw that the light in the bathroom was on. He went in and halted in surprise. Haru was in the bathtub, and his clothes were lying on the floor.

“O-oh!” Makoto stuttered and blushed. “Sorry … I-I didn’t know that you … uhh … you’re in the bathtub …”

“What do you want?” Haru asked with a calm voice.

“W-well …” Makoto licked his lips. He was staring at a tile on the wall, which was far enough away from the bathtub so that he couldn’t see Haru. “You shouldn’t have done that, Haru. I-I … They’re my friends. And they didn’t have any bad intentions.”

“They’re annoying. I don’t like them.” Haru frowned. “They deserved it.” He looked at Makoto. When he spoke, there was scorn in his voice. “You promised me.”

“Y-yes … I really did talk to them. I’m sorry … I suppose I could have been more convincing.”

Haru relaxed. He leaned back and rested his head on the edge of the bathtub. He didn’t look angry, and his voice was calm again.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he said with a quiet voice. “You couldn’t have known what they’d do.”

Makoto glanced at him. He was smiling. Makoto had only seen Haru smile once or twice, and never at him directly. He blushed, looked away again, and cleared his throat to hide his nervousness.

“Y-yeah … w-well … I wanted to tell you that … I’ll leave you alone now.”

“Alright.” Haru closed his eyes. “I’m sorry … if I made you look bad in front of your friends.”

“N-no … you didn’t. Don’t worry …”

Makoto went out of the bathroom. He felt a bit embarrassed and dazed. He was feeling as if he’d just woken up from a deep slumber and still had troubles figuring out what was real and what was not. If he closed his eyes, he could clearly see a streak of white dancing on the tile he’d watched. He couldn’t tell whether that was the water’s reflection, or the whiteness of Haru’s skin. He shook his head and went to lie down on the sofa.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto gets sick, and guess who has to take care of him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like and comment, please! Also, check out my other stories! :)

"Ah! Crap!"

Without even the smallest thunder to warn him, it started raining. Makoto raised his hands over his head, as if that could protect him from the downpour. He was in the middle of the street, with a storm around him that would probably go on for a long time. _And_ he had no umbrella with him. Makoto quickly stuffed his bag under his jacket. At least his belongings would stay dry.

He could go into a café or a store, but if the storm was going to last all night, it was probably better if he went straight home. Makoto was already feeling tired from the hectic week he’d had, and spending the night awake wasn’t a very tempting prospect for him.

Having decided against waiting somewhere until the rain stopped, Makoto made his way home. By the time he arrived in his apartment, he was soaked to the bone. Haru was nowhere to be seen, so Makoto assumed that he was in the bathroom again. Too cold and tired to make sure, he went straight to bed. He fell face-down on the mattress, not even bothering to change out of his wet clothes.  Sleep came to him almost immediately.

He had a strange dream.

He was still in his bed, but his room was empty and completely dark. Worried, Makoto tried to sit up, but something stopped him from doing so. He struggled to move, but his body remained still. Makoto, growing scared, tried to scream for help, but nothing came out of his throat.

At that moment he realized he wasn't alone. Some creature was hovering over him. It was ugly, with sharp teeth and bright red eyes. It reached for his throat and began strangling him. Makoto, paralyzed as he was, could do nothing to protect himself. This was the end, he thought in a panic. He couldn't breathe and his eyes filled with tears. The creature saw his anguish and began to laugh. Drool formed at its cracked lips. It dripped down and fell, hot and sticky, on Makoto.

He woke up with a start. For a moment he thought he was still dreaming. He still had troubles breathing, and he was covered in sweat. He couldn't stop shaking.

He screamed when he felt something touch him.

"Makoto."

It was Haru. He was leaning over Makoto and pressing something wet and cold on his forehead. It was way too bright in the room and it irritated Makoto's eyes.

"You're sick," Haru said. "I heard you groaning and went to see what was going on. You have a fever."

Makoto realized that he was right. He was shaking, his nose was stuffy and his throat hurt. He must have caught a cold while out in the rain. Sleeping in his wet clothes had been a mistake, Makoto reflected belatedly, as it had only worsened his condition.

He tried to say something but his throat was too dry for any sound to come out.

"Stay still," Haru scolded him when he tried to sit up. "You need to lie down."

They were in the living room, Makoto realized. He looked around in surprise, wondering why Haru had moved him from the bed.

"Here."

Haru handed him a steaming cup and helped him take a sip. The liquid was slightly bitter and so hot that it burned the tip of his tongue. Makoto coughed, but felt the pain in his throat subside. Whatever the drink was – it didn’t taste like tea - it helped him feel better. He drank the rest of it without any protests. Haru put the empty cup on the table and looked at Makoto. If Makoto wasn't so distracted, he might have noticed that Haru's eyes were unusually dark and had lost their gleam.

"Thanks ..." Makoto whispered. He didn't have the strength to speak any louder.

"Shh ..." Haru put a finger on his lips. "Rest now." He reached out and stroked Makoto's hair. The gesture was unusually tender and Makoto narrowed his eyes in content, much like how a cat being petted would do. He gave Haru a weak smile.

Haru moved his hand away and stood up. He went to the kitchen where something was cooking on the stove. He brought it to the coffee table. Makoto watched the steam rise from the pot and wondered what Haru had prepared for him. Even though Haru's cooking was delicious, he felt no appetite at the moment. But Haru didn't offer him any food. He pulled the blanket off Makoto and Makoto saw that he was wearing his pyjamas. He certainly didn't change clothes before falling asleep, so Haru must have dressed him. The thought made him blush.

His embarrassment grew when Haru unbuttoned his shirt. The chilly air in the room stroked his chest, its touch leaving goosebumps on his skin. He opened his mouth to ask what was happening, but at that moment Haru scooped some of the mixture he'd been cooking and smeared it on his skin. Makoto gasped when he felt just how hot it was.

"W-what...?"

"You cough a lot. This will help you feel better."

Haru hand’t finished talking when Makoto felt warmth spreading inside his chest. Breathing became easier for him and he leaned back with closed eyes. The mixture was keeping him warm, so he wasn't shivering any longer.

"Thanks ..." He mumbled.

"Don't force yourself to speak," Haru said. "Try to sleep a little longer. I'll be here."

Makoto nodded. He thought that he was quite lucky to have Haru. This was his first time being sick after moving out of his parents' home, and he wasn't sure that he would have been able to deal with it on his own. He thought, with a tinge of guilt, that he should apologize for wanting Haru to leave at first. He wanted to say so now, but he felt too weak to do it. The only thing he could manage was a small smile. He hoped that Haru would be able to understand what lay behind it.

Makoto didn't realize when he'd fallen asleep again. When he woke up, he found he was still on the sofa. He still felt weak and his throat was scratchy, but his fever had died down. Haru was in the kitchen, standing over the stove. He was cooking something - he could smell the food, which meant that his nose wasn't stuffy anymore. Upon picking up the scent, Makoto's stomach growled  and he realized that he hadn't eaten anything in a while.

Haru turned around.

"Ah." He watched Makoto for a while, not saying a word. "How are you feeling?"

"Better, I think. I-Owww..." His words faded into a low moan. As he was talking, Makoto tried to sit up. The pain in his head came back amplified and the motion made him feel faint. He lied back down with a hollow groan.

"You're still sick. Don't move." There was uncharacteristic tension in Haru's voice.

"O-ok ... just lemme ... ow ... tell my friends ..."

Haru had left his phone nearby, rightfully assuming that Makoto would need it at some point. Not having the energy to make a phone call, Makoto just sent a text to Sousuke, telling him that he wasn't feeling well. Then he put his phone aside and closed his eyes. He'd soon dozed off again.

The rest of the day went by in a blur. Makoto slept most of the time. At intervals, Haru woke him up to give him food or medicine, both of which Makoto took without any questions. Sometimes he'd see Haru sitting on the floor and watching him, but he wasn't sure if that was a dream or not.

That evening he felt strong enough to move from the sofa to his bed. When he stepped into his bedroom, his stomach tightened at the still fresh memory of his nightmare. He knew that it was just his illness making him dream weird things, but he still couldn't shake off the dread of the imagery.

As he stood in the doorway, hesitant to take another step, he heard Haru's voice behind him.

"Don't stay up too long. You need to rest."

"R-right ... Sorry."

Even if he had any more nightmares, by the time he woke up, they were erased from his mind. Makoto still felt a bit weak, but he wasn't in pain anymore. Thanks to Haru's efforts, he'd recovered almost completely.

Intent on thanking Haru for everything he'd done, Makoto got out of bed. He found Haru in the living room, but to his surprise, Haru wasn't alone. He was on the sofa, sitting between Sousuke and Ikuya.

"H-huh?"

At his voice, all three of them looked up. Haru was the first to react. He put the magazine he'd been reading down - it was about water sports and Makoto had bought it some time ago - and then stood up.

"Your friends are here," he announced needlessly and then walked out of the room.

"Ouch. I don't think he liked you very much, Sousuke," Ikuya spoke, his lips spreading in an ironic smile.

Sousuke turned to glare at him. He opened his mouth, ready to say something, but then it seemed like he decided against it. He instead opted to turn his back to Ikuya.

"W-what are you guys doing here?" Makoto asked.

"We came to see how you were doing," Ikuya explained. "And to bring you food. Actually, even though I say we, Sousuke and I came here separately. We met at the door."

"We thought you were sick and alone," Sousuke added. There was slight reproach in his voice. "We didn't know you had a ... guest."

"Ah, y-yeah! That's Haru. He ... uh ... he's not very sociable." Makoto blushed.

"We noticed." Sousuke was frowning. "So, where exactly did you meet this guy?"

_In my bathroom._

"A-ah ..." Makoto wondered why Sousuke kept asking so many questions. He usually wasn't so prying. In fact, it was hard to get him interested in most conversations. "From back home. I ... Haru and I grew up together."

Sousuke didn't look satisfied with the answer. Makoto started to worry that he'll ask more questions, but at that moment Ikuya decided to help him. He'd been listening silently to their conversation, but now he spoke up.

"Ohhh, yes! I'd forgotten about Haru - I think, he didn't go to middle school with us, did he?"

"He didn't!" Makoto exclaimed, his voice jumping an octave higher out of sheer relief. "But you've seen him when we hung out at my home, do you remember?"

Ikuya nodded. He was smiling in a very odd way which left Makoto with a vague feeling of future troubles. However, what truly worried him was that Sousuke was not willing to let the matter go.

"Hm ... It seems very odd to me that you and this ... Haru would be friends," he said, crossing his arms.

"Since when are you the friendship judge?" Ikuya asked before Makoto could reply. His voice had lost its playfulness. "Who are you to question why people are friends?"

Sousuke was startled. He took a step back and tried to soften his remark.

"It's not like I'm judging or anything like that. I just don't think that ... hm ... Makoto would have use of such a person as a friend."

"You're such a bore!"

Sousuke looked angry. Biting his lower lip, he made a move towards Ikuya.

"Shut up, Ikuya! What gives you the right to-" He halted and then cleared his throat. "Whatever ... Makoto, I've brought you food and some medicine. I ... get well soon, okay?"

He walked quickly to the door, stopping only to add that if Makoto needed to catch up on what he'd missed in class, he could borrow Sousuke's notes. Then he left, slamming the door after him. When he was gone, Ikuya laughed.

"I think I pissed him off quite a bit. No matter, it's good for him. Broadens his mind."

"Ikuya, I don't think you're very nice to Sousuke."

Ikuya's smile darkened.

"You're right, I'm not," he replied in a cold tone. "And I don't think I have a reason to be nice to him. He's been nothing but a dick to me." He shook his head, as if trying to rid himself of a nasty thought, and then smiled again. "Anyway, _who_ is this Haru really?"

"Ohh ..." Makoto blushed. "Just ... a friend."

"A friend who wears your clothes like it's nothing?"

"I-I ... he ..."

Really, it had become something normal for Makoto to see Haru wearing his clothes. It had slipped his mind that for others, such a thing wouldn't seem so ordinary. Small wonder then, he thought, that Sousuke was so suspicious.

Ikuya, however, didn't seem to be expecting any answers. He shook his head with a smile.

"It doesn't really matter. I just want to tell you that nothing bad would happen when you tell us."

"Tell you...?"

Ikuya gave him a gentle pat.

"Don't worry. I know that some people think it's weird or unnatural, but I think you shouldn't be afraid of us not being supportive. Even," his face contorted into a grimace for a fraction of a second, "even Sousuke will accept it." He smiled again. "Well, I can see that you're in good hands, so I guess there's no reason for me to hang around any longer. Besides, I have a feeling that if I do, Haru won't leave your room. He doesn't look like it, but he's very shy, isn't he? Almost as shy as you. I wonder - which one of you made the first step? I doubt it was you, Makoto."

"The first ... step?" Makoto repeated. Perhaps, because of his illness, his brain refused to work properly, because Ikuya's words made no sense to him. Seeing his confusion, Ikuya shook his head.

"Don't worry about it. I was just wondering out loud, that's all. Well, bye."

He went to the door and Makoto remained in place. A couple of minutes passed before his mind could finally process their conversation. The meaning of Ikuya's last few remarks finally dawned on him. Makoto felt an odd warmth climb from his chest to his cheeks. He hurried after friend and managed to catch him before he'd left. Ikuya was tying his shoes, but he stopped and looked up when he heard his steps.

“Ikuya … You’ve got it wrong! Haru and I … we’re not … _together_.” He almost choked on the last word. “We’re just … friends. And I don’t even know how … I mean … e-even if I wanted to … I don’t know …”

Ikuya stood up and grabbed Makoto by the shoulder.

“Makoto, calm down.” He looked worried.

“I a-am calm! I just …” Makoto cleared his throat. “The thing about Haru is … he is … um …” He stopped. He wanted to tell Ikuya the truth about Haru – out of all his friends, Ikuya was probably the one who would treat Haru like nothing was wrong. But Makoto didn’t know if Haru wanted Ikuya to know.

"What about Haru?" Ikuya was intrigued. "Makoto, if there's something that you need to share with someone, you can tell me. I can assure you that if you trust me, I'll never tell your secret to anyone else."

"I-I ... I don't know if I can tell you. It's ...not _my_ secret."

"Oh!" Ikuya gave him an odd look. "Then maybe you should let Haru choose if he wants to tell someone or not, hm?"

Makoto nodded. He was glad that Ikuya was so understanding and smart. He could always tell when he needed to change the subject and stop asking more questions. He'd been like that ever since middle school, Makoto reflected. It was odd how some traits remained with people for years.

When Ikuya left, Makoto returned to the bedroom. Haru was sitting on the bed. A pillow was in his lap and he was playing with it, pulling and poking at the edges.

"They came in on their own," he said with a slightly unhappy voice. "I didn't let them in."

"Y-yes, Ikuya has a key. When I moved in, I gave him the spare one just in case," Makoto explained. "Haru ... why didn't you hide when you heard them come in? I thought you didn't want my friends to know about you."

Before answering, Haru hesitated. He put the pillow aside and looked out of the window.

"I didn't know who it was." He was avoiding Makoto’s eyes. "I thought you might be in danger and I didn't want to leave you alone."

Makoto was surprised. He hadn't expected such a reply from Haru, but he couldn't deny that he did feel a bit flattered. His cheeks felt warmer than before and he noticed that Haru was blushing as well. Smiling, Makoto lied down on the bed.

"Thank you for taking such good care of me," he said. "You do so much around here, even before I got sick."

Makoto's parents, while kind-hearted and doting, had never given him more affection than they felt he needed, so now, at almost 20, Makoto felt the pleasure of being spoiled for the first time in his life. He had to admit, he liked it.

In response, Haru simply shrugged. When he spoke, his voice was deliberately even and unemotional.

"You said that we need to help each other out if we are going to live together. That's what I'm doing."

"Well, I'll need to catch up then." Makoto laughed. "It doesn't seem like I do much for you."

Haru looked at him and his eyes gleamed brighter for a second. It seemed like he wanted to say something, but decided against it. He just leaned over to pull the blanket over Makoto.

"Sleep now," he said and left the room.


End file.
